


Together, till the end

by ThatNerdNextDoor23



Category: MAAS Sarah J. - Works, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Cute, Elide is best girl, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Future Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNerdNextDoor23/pseuds/ThatNerdNextDoor23
Summary: The scariest thing Aelin wasn't facing the gods, or fighting Maeve, or staring down Erawan. No, it had been walking down that hall, into a Healer's Chamber. Simply because she would not walk out the same. That nothing, would be the same. But she wasn't alone. Her friend held her hand, and it would be okay. Even if this wasn't what they had planned. It would be okay.
Relationships: Aedion Ashryver/Lysandra, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre
Comments: 11
Kudos: 133





	Together, till the end

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy and not my best. Made in one day while sick to my stomach. Yes, I finished ToG yesterday. No, I'm not okay. This is me coping. Also, I love Elide more than anything ever.

Elide did not want to be the one to do this. She still wasn’t sure how she drew the short straw, but what she did know, was this; They had an hour until they had a very important meeting with a very important trade merchant from Ellywe. If Terrasen had any hope of rebuilding, they would need these trade routes established. Yet, Rowan and Aelin were nowhere to be found. It wasn’t very difficult for the court to put together, exactly why they weren’t awake yet. 

So somehow, with the Fae males staring pointedly at the ground, Lysandra had sighed and said to Elide, “I did it last time. Your turn.” So with a glare to the shifter, and a sigh at the males who all suddenly had a reason to leave the room, Elide was off. Only stopping at the kitchens to gather some food, hoping it would be a sufficient apology for...disturbing….the Queen and King Consort. As Elide took a steadying breath and forced herself to knock on the royal bedroom door, she wondered if she should have forced Aedion to do it instead. 

Her thought was quickly shoved away when there was an answering grumble from the other side of the door. It sounded sort of like Come in, it also could have been Go away. But Elide took her chances and pushed open the door. What she found was….better than what she thought it would be. In...some cases. Like the lack of clothing, was a lot better than she thought. Rowan was shirtless, possibly naked, but the blanket was pulled up far enough that Elide couldn’t tell. Aelin, on the other hand, was fully clothed. Well, sort of, she was wearing a golden nightgown that was barely more than a slip. Her hair was a tangled knot and she groaned at the noise of Elide closing the door and setting the platter of food on the table beside the bed. “Good morning to you, too.” Elide voice was quiet, not wanting to wake the still snoring King. 

Aelin barely managed to sit up as Elide handed her a soft robe. “Still hungover?” She asked, helping the queen slip her arms into the sleeves. Aelin shook her head, “He is,” She jutted her thumb to Rowan. Elide understood the feeling, waking up Lorcan this morning had been no easy task. It took much patience and gentle kisses to coax him out of bed. Remembering last night, Rowan drank just as much as Lorcan, probably more. Elide was never much of a drinker, and when she did drink, she giggled endlessly and said things she did not mean. So normally Elide would sip on a glass of wine and stay sober while her friends drank and did incredibly embarrassing things. She always enjoyed being able to remember it all and wake up perfectly fine while the others had horrible hangovers. Manon called this ‘completely cynical.’ and ‘proof you’re a true Iornteeth.’ 

Aelin stood and walked to her closet, swaying slightly. Her robes bellowed behind her. As Elide followed her Queen, stopping just inside the sitting room before the closet, a thought occurred to her. “You probably drank just as much as I did.” She said, distantly. Aelin hummed in response, somewhere behind the racks of clothes. “So you’re probably not as hungover as usual.” It was true, Aelin could down as much as those Fae warriors. Aedion claimed their liquor tolerance was an Ashryver family trait. “No.” Aelin agreed, Elide could hear the rustling of clothes as Aelin got dressed. “So how come you look so sick? And you slept in so late?” Aelin’s head peeked back at Elide. “It’s not that late.” Elide only pointed at the clock on the wall, Aelin let out a string of curses and got dressed a bit faster.  
When she did emerge from the clothes, dressed in a Terrasen green dress, hair still a mess, Elide was ready. Standing beside the vanity placed in the closet, (It really was a big closet.) a brush in hand. Aelin yawned and sat in the wooden stool. So Elide began her work, two jobs. One, detangling her friends golden hair, her hands took care off. Her other task, her mind churned and chewed at. There could be plenty of reasons as to why Aelin didn’t drink last night, yet felt so sick this morning. Plenty. Totally. A hundred reasons. 

Except there wasn’t. Not really. Elide knew that. But she tried to push the thought away. Far, far, away. Yet, as she brushed Aelin’s hair, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. At Aelin’s closed eyes, her skin a bit paler than normal. Her face tense, her hand on her abdomen… and Elide knew. Knew there was no other explanation. Nothing else in the entire world that would keep Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius from drinking with her friends. When Aelin’s eyes opened, and met Elides gaze in the mirror, the understanding in her eyes. As if she had read Elides mind and knew the exact question in her head.

Of course she did. Aelin had always understood that Elide saw things when no one else did. Elide dragged the brush though Aelin’s hair one last time. The hair now silky and soft to touch, Elide began braiding, and humming. A sweet song she remembered her mother singing, as she brushed Elides hair. Just as she had once brushed Aelin’s hair. The smile on Aelin’s lips said she remembered too. Remembered how Marion’s fingers had felt as they threaded your hair together. “I don’t know if it’s true.” she whispered,so quiet Elide almost didn’t hear. “Rowan doesn’t know, hasn’t shown any signs of knowing. So maybe it's nothing and I’m just imagining things, but we have been busy lately and I need to see the healers but I- '' She swallowed her rant. “I don’t want to go alone. But if I tell him… If I get his hopes up…” 

Elide tied off the braid with a green ribbon. She kissed her friend on the cheek. “I will come with you.” She said simply, because she would follow her friend anywhere, and hold her hand the whole time if she wished. She had, in fact, done both those things before. Aelin’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.” Elide only smiled, “Come on. Before your husband wakes up.” She led Aelin by the hand, out of the closet, tiptoeing past the slumbering Rowan, and out into the Palace hallway. She nodded to the guards posted outside the chamber, “Tell Rowan to meet us in the council room when he wakes.” 

“If he wakes.” Aelin added. The guards chuckled and Elide rolled her eyes, tugging Aelin along. It was something that Elide loved about her court. Her kingdom. The way that the guards, the maids, cooks, stablehands, they called them by name. Unless some other Royal or distant lord was around, it was always, Aelin and Rowan. Not The Queen and King. Elide was, just that, Elide. No Lady, not unless she needed to be. The only court member whose title was used often was Lorcan. Elide would always feel bad about that. (even though it would never cease to make her laugh.) Because in this court, the lords and ladys, the King and Queen, were not some ‘holier than thou’ tyrant. They were just people. People whose job it was to take care of Terrasen. Whatever that job may entail.

So it was no surprise, with how much Elide loved her, that she held Aelin’s hand and walked with her down winding stairs and long corridors. Her hand tightened its grip the closer they drew to the Healers' Chambers. Elide paused before the door, her heart pounding in a way it hadn’t this morning. She squeezed Aelin’s hand. “It will be okay. No matter what, we’ll see this through to the end. Together, till the end.” 

Aein squeezed back. 

Then Elide knocked on the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin’s heart was pounding, her head spinning. Every second became increasingly difficult to pay attention. But she really needed to pay attention. So despite her sweaty palms, she forced herself to relax, her face a confident smile, nodding every now and then. Listen. Pay attention. Voice your opinions. Don’t be too brash. Things her mother used to say. She would say them now, if she were sitting here. But she wasn’t here. Yet, from the corner of her eye, Elide was there. A quiet smile on her lips. The words in her eyes as she looked over at Aelin. 

Listen.

Pay attention.

Stay calm.

Breathe.

So Aelin did. She listened to the man with a heavy Ellywe accent. Listened to him talk about prices, trading, the way he talked. As if she were a child. A young queen who knew nothing about ruling a kingdom. About governments, politics, socialism. He was wrong. He was oh so very wrong. So Aelin cut him off with a simple, “Pardon the interruption, but I might have a more beneficial idea.” She laid it out in front of him. The plan she and her court, with the help of Falkan, had been crafting since they began rebuilding Terrasen. When the man stumbled for the words. When her court smiled sweetly. (Well, Lorcan never smiled for anyone but Elide.) The young Queen who suddenly didn’t seem so young said, in Ellywe, “Would you rather us talk like this? We can if you prefer. I want to be sure that we are all in agreement.”

She said it so kindly, that that's all it was. Just a kind gesture from a Queen to a nervous merchant. But her court knew there was another reason behind it. So that this merchant would remember, and would tell others, that the new Queen of Terrasen was not to be messed with. That she was clever, that she spoke the languages of the world. That she knew how the world worked and could not be tricked. So the meeting went on. The decisions were made. A trade route through Ellywe was established. One that benefitted both kingdoms. When the meeting ended, when they stood, shook hands, Aelin caught Elide’s glance. 

Her smile spread wide across her face, beaming with pride. The Ellywe man had just left the room, Rowan and Falkan walking with him down the hall, still chatting, when she felt it creep up. Aelin’s stomach spun and bile rose in her throat. She reached out blindly and grasped Elide’s shoulder in warning. “Aelin? What's wrong?” Fenrys stepped closer and Aelin tried to shoo him away, keeping her mouth clamped shut. Elide lurched to the corner of the room to a trash bin and shoved it into Aelin’s hands. “Let it out.” She hushed, she said something to the others in the room. Something that sent the three males in the room running out. She gave them jobs, somehow.

Because Elide knew that’s how you dealt with males when someone was sick or injured. You gave them jobs.

It all had happened in seconds, Aedion, Fenrys, and Lorcan running out. Lysandra rushing to Aelin’s side, Elide at the other, stroking her back. Her stomach didn’t need coaxing as she hurled her stomach into the bin. Again and again until she was only dry heaving. Still, Elide and Lysandra kept rubbing her back. “Good, Aelin, that’s it. Let it out.” Elide soothed. When Aelin finished, panting, Lysandra dragged the back of her hand across her friend's face. “Are you sick?” She whispered. Elide and Aelin shared a look that Lysandra easily read. “Oh. Oh! Aelin!” 

Aelin laughed, even as her throat burned and her mouth tasted foul. Lysandra enveloped her in a too tight embrace. “Aelin!!” She exclaimed again. Then she gasped, pulling back abruptly, “Does anyone else know?” She looked back and forth from Aelin and Elide. But Aelin heard the unspoken question, Does Rowan know? 

“Know what?” Aelin nearly leaped out of her skin at the voice of her cousin. The males had come back from where Elide had sent them. Aedion carrying a teapot, Fenrys with a cup, and Lorcan with a plate of crackers. When Aelin’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth and she wasn’t sure what to say and the room was spinning and everything was happening much too fast- A hand was guiding her to her seat.

Pouring her a cup of peppermint tea, pushing the plate too her and telling everyone to be quiet. Gods. Rutting gods. Elide really was, magical. More magical than anyone else in her court. Elide with her gentle hands and words of wisdom. With her soft smile and ever listening ears. Ever seeing eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan was so sick of this courtly nonsense. His jacket was, simply put, unpractical. He couldn’t move his arms far enough in it. Aelin said it did wonders to his figure, whatever that meant. His shirt felt too stiff. He really didn’t see why he even needed to be in that meeting. Aelin had claimed that she needed his insight. But she had plenty of insight, that she didn’t really need either. Rowan knew that it was simply because she was nervous. Deep down, still a new Queen who found herself a bit insecure every now and then. Insecure was a word that no one but Rowan would use to describe Aelin. But no one knew his love like he did. His mate. His wife. His Fireheart. 

He hadn’t held her all day. She was gone when he woke up. And when he found her, she seemed to stay two steps ahead of him. Maybe he was just imagining it but was she….avoiding him? 

He was imagining it. No question. Just more territorial Fae bullshit. That’s all. But the thought still spurred him to finish his conversation with the Ellywe merchant, making sure he was left in the trusted care of Falkan, he made his subtle retreat to his own chambers. Where he made quick work of his stuffy court finery. Slipping into a much more practical and comfortable tunic and pants. Then he was gone. Shifting and soaring out the balcony doors. 

Rowan could breathe again. The wind rippled through his feathers, people called out from the city below, pointing up. “Look! It’s King Rowan!” They’d shout. He couldn’t help the pride that bloomed in his chest. The joy that rose up when he would swoop down and the children in the streets would shriek and giggle. But he made his way over the wall nonetheless. The fields of kingsflame rose before him. A field of fire. Of beauty. All for his mate. He soared in the air, higher, higher, higher still. Then he saw her. Standing on the garden balcony. Her hair still braided back, but she’d changed into a loose white tunic and brown pants. Barefoot in the grass, watching him. 

His Fireheart. 

He let out a cry that pierced the sky and found his wings sending him to her. They always found their way to her. He flipped in the air, shifting and landing before her. “Show off.” She laughed. Her laugh drew him into her. Rowan pulled her close and kissed her lips. Sweet, and slow. Aelin pulled back, reaching up to brush the hair from his face. He leaned into her touch. “Rowan.” She whispered, her voice low. “Aelin.” He replied, an eyebrow raised. She leaned in closer, her nose touching his. “Rowan.” She said again, her voiced raised in urgency and it was then, with her so close to him that he breathed in and-

And-

She was-

He was gonna be-

Holy sh-

“I’m pregnant.” 

His heart stopped. So many thoughts racing through his head and he wasn’t sure if he was breathing anymore. “Rowan.” Aelin said again, her face full of concern and Rowan realized that he hadn’t said anything yet.

But what was there to say? 

He was going to be a father. Rowan never thought he would get to this point in life. Get to have this. Any of this. His face broke into a grin. Rowan picked his wife up and swung her around. Her laughter filled the garden. “So I take it you're happy?” Aelin huffed when he set her down. 

“Fireheart, I have never been happier.” He knew he was grinning from ear to ear, acting like a child himself. He barked a laugh. “I’m going to be a father.” Aelin captured his lips with her. All her passion, all her love in that kiss with her arms around his neck. Rowan wrapped his own around her. “Yes, you are.” She said against his mouth. 

“Ready for sleepless nights and dirty diapers?” Definitely not the most romantic thing she’s ever said. But he laughed all the same. “As long as it’s with you.” And he meant it. Rowan would do anything for his mate. Raising a family, ruling a kingdom. It didn’t matter. It was all the same to Rowan. As long as he was with her, as long as he could love fiercely and unyieldingly. Then it didn’t matter if they had one kid or ten. He just wanted this. With Aelin. For the rest of his days.


End file.
